“Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Kimmes stopped her powder pink scooter beside the bench. “And who is this handsome fellow sitting beside you like a giant lump of yummy?”
Ah, to be so free with words. Luckily, Lucy had known the older woman for three years and Mrs. Kimmes’s mouth no longer surprised her. “This is Scott. We were discussing knitting lessons for him and his daughter.”
“Both of them, huh?” The older woman’s drawn-on eyebrows rose high. “Well, that’s a newfangled thing. You don’t look like one of those glittery men knitters, so I suppose you’re just being nice. I like that. You won’t find a better teacher than Lucy here. She’s a good one. Why, she even took on an old hooker like me and made a full conversion.”
Lucy was proud Scott didn’t even wince at the old girl’s announcement. He was a good sport and she supposed with all the kids, off the wall announcements weren’t new.
“Oh, well I need to go. I’m meeting Wanda Fisher for lunch. Take care, Lucy, and you, young man, I know we’ve just met, but if you’ve got a mind to make eyes at this fine young woman, I suggest you not forget the roses. Too many young men these days go straight for the—”
“Mrs. Kimmes!”
The older woman smirked. “Oh, she’s a bit of a prude too, but a nicer woman you’ll never meet. I’m off. You two behave.”
And like she hadn’t come from nowhere to embarrass the heck out of Lucy, Mrs. Kimmes scooted away. Left once more with Scott, Lucy wasn’t sure if she hoped he would walk away or if she wanted to have a chance to explain at least some of what the crazy woman had said.
“Hookers, huh?”
“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d miss that one,” Lucy said and tried not to blush. “She meant she used to only crochet. It’s a kind of yarn work done with a single hook—which leads to those who enjoy crocheting being referred to as—”
“Hookers.” He grinned. “I bet the old girl likes that. And the other? If I do sign up for class, do I need to bring roses?”
She’d bet hundreds of women had thrown themselves at him over his smile alone. Jessie hadn’t mentioned a mother and Scott didn’t wear a ring, so she assumed he was single. She couldn’t be sure though.
“Hmm, no roses necessary for the first class,” she said, indulging in a slightly flirty tone and hoping he would come to class so she could learn more about him. If nothing else, he was interesting to talk with and his daughter was adorable. She’d bet they’d both be pleasant company.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a card or something?”
“I can do you one better,” she said and dug around the pocket of her knitting tote. “Here’s a flyer with the beginners classes listed and you can come whenever. I have all the supplies and the starter kit I put together is really inexpensive, so if it doesn’t click for you two, you won’t be out more than ten dollars and a little time.”
He accepted the flyer, looked it over and tucked it in his pocket. “I’ll call soon.”
Across the field, the boys started fighting.
“Oh, uh oh—”
“I think it’s time to head home. Thanks again for being kind to Jessie and I’ll be in contact soon.”
He was up and gone in a flash, his speed shocking, but then, he was a dad and his boys were fighting. Jessie perked up for a second and followed and Lucy wondered if he’d whistled again. The move seemed a bit Von Trapp but it obviously worked. Lucy checked her watch and sighed before tucking her yarn away. Lunch break was over and the yarn shop wasn’t going to run itself, no matter how nice it was outside.
Chapter 2
They were sleeping—all three of them. Scott sat at the dining room table and winced when his elbow landed in syrup. It had been Ross and Greg’s turn to clean up after dinner, which usually meant he had to re-clean. If he’d been thinking, he would have grabbed a rag before sitting, but he was tired. Hell, he’d been exhausted for the past six months.
Ever since he’d been forced to leave the protection of his pack, he’d been on guard. For thirty-five years he’d lived with his packmates always at his back, ready to help, but now he was alone except for his kids.
It was for the best. His mate had tried to kill Jessie one night. She’d nearly killed the boys too when they interfered. The best they could figure, something inside Tiffany’s head had snapped.
After the incident, Scott’s alpha had asked him to leave the pack and take the children in case whatever had broken in Tiffany had transferred to them. Obviously she had to be crazy. Weres didn’t turn on their babies, ever, and he didn’t blame the others for being cautious. That didn’t mean his kids had problems, though. He couldn’t believe that and wouldn’t until they showed concrete signs of having issues.
They weren’t in danger or on the run, but the day-to-day life of parenting three pups alone on top of working security full-time wore him down. It was hard being in a new city as well, but he hoped in a few years they could join the pack in Haven, Pennsylvania. He’d spoken with the alpha and was sure they’d make something work eventually. Good days like today made the other ones bearable. He had at least fifteen years to go before the kids were on their own.
“Daddy?”
And then there was Jessie. She’d been a surprise after the boys. Tiffany had been sure the little one was a male, even though Scott and everyone else had smelled right off the pup was female. Tiffany had never warmed up to the little girl, though Scott had never understood why. She was beautiful, bright and even as a newborn she’d been incredibly engaging. Maybe because Jessie was everything Tiffany wasn’t, the older female had felt threatened.
“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, watching as she rubbed her eyes. She was wearing one of his old T-shirts. She had a drawer full of pajamas, but at bedtime, especially after she had baths, she always raided his dresser. It was a scent thing he’d noticed with all the kids, and he’d accepted that he spent more on T-shirts than necessary.
“Are we going to go knitting together?” She climbed on his lap.
He fought his wince. The day with the boys had jarred his already-damaged back. The fight with the rogue werewolf Tiffany had aligned herself with had left him in bad shape. He’d had to seek help from a human doctor and he’d been told he was lucky to have use of his legs. They’d reinforced the bones in his back to prevent further injury but the bolts sometimes made him ache.
“Sorry, Daddy. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” Jessie was so astute, so in tune with the people around her. Scott sometimes worried she felt too deeply. He didn’t want to ever think of his daughter being hurt by others who didn’t respect her feelings.
“Nope, I’m aching a little bit, but you know the best medicine for that is time with my Jessie.” He wouldn’t be a father again, wouldn’t hold a newborn of his own flesh again, so moments like this, when Jessie was soft and cuddly, were ones he cherished.
“And a hot bath would help too,” Jessie said, all practicality. “Do you think we’ll be able to knit, Dad? I really liked Lucy and I want to make you socks.”
“She gave me her class schedule and said she’d teach us. I looked it up on the internet and you might be a little young, but we can sure try it. If the knitting doesn’t quite work, I read about a few other yarn crafts Lucy will probably be able to help with.”
“You won’t mind being the only daddy there?” she asked timidly and he remembered the girls’ group they’d attended earlier in the summer. He’d been the only dad and the moms had been vicious. Between cutting down the other families, they’d been trying to get in his pants. Jessie had asked to stop going to the program before he’d insisted, but she’d been missing their quieter times together while the boys were at sports.
“I won’t mind, honey,” he promised.
“I really liked Lucy.”
“About that, Jess, you know you can’t go up to strangers like you did today. I know she’s human and smelled okay, but we need to be more careful.”
Jessie sighed. “She didn’t just smell okay, Daddy.”
“What do you mean?”
“She smelled perfect,” Jessie said, so wistful it made Scott’s heart ache.
“Perfect?”
“You know.” She rubbed her nose to his neck like pups did to get scents back as well as a sign of affection. “None of the ugly smells were on her.”
Ugly smells to Jessie were anything aggressive. After so long with her mother, she’d come to recognize anger and aggression as things to dread and hide from. He watched his temper carefully around his daughter so as not to invoke bad memories. It wasn’t always possible, but even the boys did their best to not actively get angry around Jessie.
She wasn’t timid or fearful, at least she wasn’t now, and all of them wanted her to grow more comfortable and confident. Anger and aggression were parts of their lives, but they weren’t things Jessie needed constant reminders of.
“Didn’t you notice, Daddy? She smelled like yarn and sunshine.”
As he thought about it, he realized the pretty yarn shop lady had smelled good. She’d been cute too, but he’d been too distracted by the kids to really appreciate her features and scent. He had the vague impression of red hair and maybe freckles. He’d have to pay more attention at their class. If Jessie had taken such a notice, he wanted to make sure his daughter interpereted the details correctly.
“I did notice, now that you mention it. I’ll check her more when we go to class. For now, you need to get to bed, little girl. You’ve got summer classes in the morning.”
She sighed and slid off his lap. “I wish you had the summers off too, Daddy. That would be awesome.”
He smiled. “Me too, honey. Maybe one day.”
She shook her head. “With three kids? Sorry, Daddy, I’m pretty sure you’ll be working summers for a long time.”
Scott bit back a chuckle and when Jessie’s door closed, he stood and grabbed a rag. Tired or not, things had to be done, but after his talk with his daughter, the fatigue didn’t drag at him as much.
Chapter 3
“Okay, guys, let’s cast on. Remember, all you need is the yarn and a single needle for this.”
Scott smiled at his daughter, who immediately followed Lucy’s very concise, simple instructions with her pink yarn and stick. He liked his blue yarn, but strongly doubted he was going to be able to make it do what his six-year-old was.
“Like this, Daddy.” Jessie held her hand just as Lucy had and slowly showed him the steps of casting the yarn on the needle. “Nice and slow, see?”
He tried, fumbling the yarn horribly before finally getting a second loop to stay on the needle.
Jessie smiled. “Good job. Now do it again.”
“How’s it going over here?”
Scott looked up at Lucy and was nailed by the scent Jessie had spoken so fondly of. Everyone Scott had ever met was a mix of scents. Anger, aggression, happiness, sadness and all the rest seemed to intermingle on people. There was a difference from someone who was basically content and happy in their life and those who were genuinely sad.
It wasn’t often something so pure hit his nose. In addition to looking the part of a teacher, with soft red curls and a slight sprinkling of freckles on her nose, Lucy smelled the part, with patience and joy. The heady combination had made him stutter more than once since they’d entered the yarn shop.
“My daddy isn’t quite getting it, Miss Lucy,” Jessie explained, her yarn already cast on the appropriate amount of stitches. “He tries really hard, but I think his big fingers get in the way.”
“That might be it,” Lucy said seriously, yet when she took the seat beside Scott, he saw the humor in her eyes. “Sometimes it takes a few more tries. Here, try it with me.”
She touched him and Scott was a goner. Werewolf senses were fantastically better than humans’ and touch was no different. She felt as pure and sweet as she smelled and he had to brace his feet to stay in his seat. The other options were to fall out of his chair or jump her. Neither was going to happen, especially in front of his daughter and two other students.
“See, like this. Sometimes it’s difficult to get a feel for tension from the start, but I think we can at least get you on.”
Something was on all right, but he controlled himself, schooling his expression to passivity and concentration. Beside him, Jessie looked on intently, her innocent concern for his knitting skills helping him rein in his libido. It had been years since he’d wanted a woman. He’d wanted Tiffany, because she was his mate and they were monogamous. She was the only option.